Social Suicide
by anmorata
Summary: One shots. How to commit social Suicide.
1. Rainbows

**Social Suicide**

DISCAIMER: Don't own anything, mmkay.

AN: I just started with these. They will all be quite short. This first one, I think will be my longest one. But they will be numerous.

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Black was too depressing for Lord Voldemort. Yes, he was a ruthless serial killer, but he sure as hell was not depressing. He made other people depressed, but he himself was not depressing, and that was for sure. As Lord Voldemort was not depressing, and the colour of his robes implied the complete opposite, he had come to the conclusion it was time for new robes.

After several weeks of endless battles in his mind over what colour his new robes were to be, he came to the conclusion the were to be rainbow. Not only would this mean that his robes would have all the colours he could've wanted, he would not be so depressing any longer. If anything, he would appear to be fun loving and peaceful. He wasn't fun loving nor peaceful, but he was not depressing, and in his opinion, being the latter was much much worse.

Excited, he called all Death Eaters for a meeting, which only served the purpose of showing off his new robes. One by one they appeared, looking shocked the moment they saw him. It appeared that they found this rather peculiar, but were simply afraid to mention it. Thankfully, Lord Voldemort had not noticed, as he was in a state of ecstasy. Finally, somebody had the courage to say something.

"Milord, why are your robes ... rainbow?"

"It's the latest trend!" How dare somebody question his robes!

"Since when do we follow trends, Master?" Said a second voice.

"Since NOW! And you'll follow it too!" This was ridiculous - they did not like his robes. But that was alright - his decision were undisputed.

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Fighting Death Eaters in the dark proved to be quite a challenge for Harry Potter ands his best friend, Ron Weasley. Ron spent most of his time cursing his brothers' Instant Darkness Powder under his breath rather than cursing Death Eaters. This left Harry to do all the Death Eater cursing, and he was not very happy about this. They had actually been in the dark so long, Harry was no longer sure what or who he was fighting, but he hoped to God it was still Death Eaters. He was about to find out though, as the Death Eaters had just run out of that atrocious powder, and all was revealed.

Harry nearly feel over laughing to what he saw - 2 Death Eaters, in rainbow robes.

He whispered, trying hard to keep in his laughter, behind his hand to his friend, "Ron, I think the Death Eaters are gay."


	2. In The Bathroom

**Social Suicide**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

AN: I didn't realty come up with this idea - I actually just read this a few years ago on a list of things that will never happen. But still. Enjoy.

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Harry Potter needed to go to the bathroom. Really badly. Unfortunately, the only bathroom in the Weasley household happened to be occupied by his best friend. There was also a strong smell coming from the bathroom. This was not making Harry's situation any better.

"Ron, you've been in there for 2 hours! Nobody gets diarrhea this bad."

"Just let me finish, man. I just need to wash this stuff off."

"What are you doing? I need to take a dump!"

"Uhh...Shaving."

"WHAT? It can't possibly take you that long! I'm coming in - I need to go! NOW!"

Harry opened the door, and got the shock of his life.

Ron Weasley was dying his hair red.


	3. Love Letters

**Social Suicide**

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Voldmort never got mail. Well, almost never. Most of his mail was bills anyway, so mail never actually made him happy. Today was different. He had gotten a letter - how exciting. Quickly he tore it open, and was disappointed to see only a few lines.

_To the loveliest of all dark lords,_

_I don't know how to tell you this, but I can't help myself. I have been dying to tell you this but every time I get close enough to talk to you, you try and kill me. So I am writing you a note informing you of how much I love you. And I want you to know that I forgive you for killing my parents, and try to kill me on numerous occasions._

_With love,_

_Harry_

This was priceless - he had to tell somebody. He picked up the phone, and dialed number.

Rita Skeeter answered. Oh, he could already see the headlines.


End file.
